Trigger point
by RedHatMeg
Summary: One tragedy more won't change anything. He will be walking around in black clothes during whole next week, as he always does. Then he will return to normality, just like he always does after such accidents. He won't cry." Last chapter!
1. Trigger point

**Yes, another fic about the plane crash at Smolensk. When I've heard about it, I wanted to write my own Hetalia fanfic about this tragedy. It will be probably multi-chapter, because for sure this event will have some political repercutions. Besides, I want to show Poalnd's feelings and thoughts from different way.**

**Review?**

**Trigger point**

It was normal Saturday morning. He woke up at nine am, just like he always does in weekend. And – as every morning – he brushed his teeth, ate cornflakes for breakfast, wore some random clothes and drank morning coffee. But that day was different, even though it began like any ordinary day. Around ten, when Feliks Łukasiewicz – known also as personification of Poland – was checking newspaper with TV program, his cell phone had started to ring. Unhurriedly Feliks put it up, since his call ID was showing his prime minister, Donald Tusk.

"Yes, mister prime minister?" Poland asked.

"Mister Łukasiewicz, something happened in Russia."

"What?" Feliks didn't like Tusk's voice. It sounded hesitating and really serious. Poland was ready for everything, but nothing could prepare him for the news he heard that morning from his own prime minister.

"The plane with our Katyń's delegation crashed. President Kaczyński, his wife and other passengers, alongside with plane's staff, are dead."

At first Feliks thought, it was just a joke. Kaczyński wasn't popular politician, for sure few people would happily announce about him being killed in plane crash, but no – Tusk was serious, so totally and deeply serious. And, alongside with president, died other, really important people – his first lady, his ombudsman, his four army leaders, also his former president on the exile and oppositionist from Poland's communist days Anna Walentynowicz. In one moment this Saturday stopped to be ordinary.

"How?" Was all Feliks could respond.

"I'm not quite sure, but from latest info I know that there was really dense fog and pilot was trying to land four times in Smolensk. The plane crashed on really high tree, and since the machine had already few damages, it gone down and started to burn. It seems that nobody survived."

"I see." Poland muttered. "Thank you, mister prime minister."

He hung up the phone. For a moment he was silent. He still hardly believed in what he just heard. He didn't know what to think. Kaczyński wasn't perfect boss, he had done many things that made his nation angry or ashamed, but… But Poland never wished him die. Also his wife – Maria – was really nice lady, she was intelligent and funny. It was so sad that on their mission to celebrate Katyń's massacre anniversary, they met so sudden death.

But he didn't cry yet.

Suddenly, in one moment, Feliks felt it. Mass attack of despair from families and friends of 97 victims of plane crash, whose had been abandoned by their loved ones. This pain was breaking his heart and made him shiver. He felt sorry for them. It was weird that he hadn't felt how his president and others were dying. Maybe it was because of this distance. He also wasn't feeling pain of Poles on immigration.

But he didn't cry yet.

Then some really horrible thought passed his mind and Feliks frowned. Death of president meant faster elections. According to his constitution, after 60 days since president's death. Now Poland wasn't confused, but insecure. He was worried that chaos could occur during those days. Well, his marshal will be doing president's duties, until elections, but what if something bad will happen? Feliks didn't want to know. The only thing he could focus on right now, is that his boss was killed.

But he didn't cry yet.

Few hours had passed, while he was just sitting in his flat and thinking about this whole situation. From time to time he was turning on the TV to watch the news. Soon it was confirmed that all the people on the plane was dead and that pilot, despite warnings about the weather, was trying to land, because of pressure from president. The flag on government building had been put down, to the half of the flag-pole, alongside with thin, black fillet. People started to gather at the gate to President's Palace and praying in the intention of those, who had been killed in the crash.

But Poland didn't cry yet.

Around afternoon his cities and regions began to phone to him. Cracow said that Zygmunt's Bell will ring, like after the death of king. Feliks thought it was quite good idea to do such symbolic act. The head of his state was dead after all. Soon also Russia rang to Poland, which was surprising for Feliks, especially since Ivan's voice was so calm and filled with concern.

"How are you, Poland?" He asked.

"I was shocked at first, but I'm trying not to break down." Feliks replied, didn't know why he was confessing to Ivan in the first place.

"I must say, I'm really sorry for you. Please accept my condolences." Russian seemed to be honest. Poland almost saw a smile of sympathy on this chubby face.

"Thanks, Russia. Bye."

Feliks was going to hang up, but he heard on the other side:

"Poland, wait! There is one more thing!"

"Yeah?" Feliks asked.

"My president established a special commission, which will investigate this case. I promise, you and your prime minister will find out about everything as soon as possible."

"Thanks, Ivan." Poland said, but his voice had no signs of gratefulness or happiness. It rather sounded like he was bored.

When he said 'goodbye' to Russia and hang up the phone, he just fell on the armchair, sinking in his thoughts again. It took place, while they were returning from Katyń. The plane crashed almost at the same place, where the victims of massacre was lying. It had to be fate that his highest military officers, his politicians and activists of Third Republic of Poland died near the grave of Polish elite of Second Republic. This time the laugh of History seemed to be exceptionally loud and cruel. It was an irony.

Feliks wasn't sad. Was it the first time that his boss died so suddenly? King Henry The Pious had been killed during battle under Legnica, president Narutowicz was assassinated by fanatic, general Władysław Sikorski died in the plane crash at Gibraltar, finally John Paul Second passed away only five years ago. His people are dying every day. On the highways, on the streets, in their own houses, in hospitals. Why this tragedy should be different?

But this crash really was different. It wasn't just one or two persons, it was whole president's delegation. The thing that his president was who he was, wasn't changing anything. After all it was first time in history that so many important for state people died in plane crash.

Poland still didn't cry.

There will be, for sure, some speculations that it wasn't accident. That it was good prepared assassination. For sure, Russia and Tusk will be suspected, because most of people on the plane was from opposition, even though they were also from the same party as the president. Few idiots probably will be accosting Israel or masonry.

All of sudden Feliks felt anger. First at his deceased president. Must Kaczyński go on those celebrations with all those people from his party and from government? Small delegation would be nice, but no! – he had to take them all to impress Putin! That idiot, moron, ignorant… that… that bastard! And why this damn pilot was trying to land, even though the control tower was forbidding him due to fog? And, of course, everybody was alarming about bad shape of Polish governmental airplanes, so those morons had to put there the representative of Polish state.

But he wasn't crying yet.

Soon another nations were calling to him with condolences.

"As this year's leader of EU, I want to say that tragedy of Polish nation is a tragedy of whole Europe." Spain said. "Losing boss in such brutal way… It must be horrible to you."

"I'm fine, I think. Thanks, Antonio."

"Today's match of Real Madrid will prelude the minutes of silence."

Germany next called.

"I want to say that your president was great man. _Frau_ Merkel is deeply shocked. I imagine what you feel, I'm with you."

"Thank you, Ludwig."

Then called England.

"It must be the darkest day for you, Feliks. You've lost your boss in such horrible way. Please, accept condolences from me, my prime minister and my queen."

"Thanks, Arthur."

"We – I, fratello and prime minister Berlusconi – connect with you in bereavement. You are our friend, Feliks."

"Thanks, Feliciano. That's really awesome of you."

"My president was deeply shocked, when he had found out. He knew very well _Herr _Kaczyński and they were going to meet in Warsaw in may. I'm truly sorry for you, Feliks."

"I'm fine, Roderich, but thank you."

"_Pologne_, it's horrible what happened to you. You've lost not only president, but also a great politician. I'm sure Kaczyński was devoted to service to you. And all those people – your ministers and their surrogates…"

"Yeah, I suppose… Thank you, Francis."

"It's so un-awesome. You and Ivan tried so hard to get along and now this crash happened… All those people died in place when seventy years ago your elite had been massacred." America said. "Anyway, I'm with you, buddy. Kaczyński was great friend of America."

"Thanks, Alfred."

Also, Czech Republic, Hungary and Lithuania called, and even – which was surprising to Feliks – China and India, but all Poland's 'thank you' was monotone and lacked any enthusiasm. He was grateful that other nations were sending him condolences, but there was some strange numbness in him. Almost everyone was telling him that Kaczyński was a great patriot. In TV even an opposition was talking about him like about some hero. Yeah, yeah, Feliks knew… Talking bad about the deceased one is impropriate, but when Kaczyński was alive, they were ranting at him and treating like an ignorant, who don't know anything about politics (which, sadly, in many cases was true). Also many of those politicians, who were with them, hadn't the best reputation and wasn't very liked. And now they were dead… For sure few of those condolences of other politicians weren't honest.

But Poland wasn't crying yet.

He shifted himself from armchair, took his jacket and went out from the apartment. He had to take some fresh air and walk around. Suddenly whole his capital was dark and sad, and it wasn't because of late evening (it was twenty o'clock). His lags led him unconsciously to nearest church. When Feliks entered the sanctuary, he realized it was filled with people, who were humbly praying for souls of victims. The priest was holding rosary and saying a prayer "Zdrowaś Mario". Poland came closer and kneeled on the floor. He wasn't joining the pleas, he was just listening to them.

_"Zdrowaś Mario, łaskiś pełna. Pan z tobą. Błogosławionaś ty między niewiastami i błogosławiony owoc żywota twojego Jezus. Święta Mario, matko boża. Módl się za nami grzesznymi, teraz i w godzinie śmierci naszej. Amen."_[1]

After few minutes of hearing his countrymen's prayers, Poland stood up and decided to come to President's Palace. It took him only twenty minutes to get there, but the view was really stunning. At the gate to Palace was lying flowers, zniczes and pictures of victims. There was still people, who were coming and adding their lights or crying. Poles united in pain. Poles, who wasn't remembering the bad things about the deceased ones. Poles, who were now wearing black clothes. Just like after death of pope. Really touching view.

But he wasn't crying yet.

When he was coming back home and when he finally got into his own flat, he was recalling memories of his president. On and on. Like a broken disc. All his mistakes, his irrational acts, but also those rare things he had done good. Lech was always proud (sometimes too proud) of his past. Little knight of Round Table alongside with his twin brother. Sometimes it seemed that they both were overestimating their role in fall of communism in Poland. And how furious they were, when "Der Spiegel" compared them to two almost similar potatoes! Sometimes Kaczyński acted, like he was going to make revolution and become dictator. No matter what to say about him, Poland couldn't get bored with him. In his own, weird way Lech Kaczyński wanted only good for him.

But Feliks wasn't crying yet.

He was crying many times in his past, over even worse tragedies then this crash. Comparing death of 97 people to death of millions of Poles in wars, in concentration camps or in Katyń's massacre, it really wasn't something special. Yeah, sure, it was his people, and his president, but somehow Feliks couldn't shed even one tear. He – the personification of Poland – couldn't cry, even if most of Poles inside and outside his borders were sinking in despair.

He was worried and angry. He was sorry for the victims and their families, but he couldn't – or maybe he didn't want to – cry. He had to be strong. He always was strong with taking his martyrdom. One tragedy more won't change anything. He will be walking around in black clothes during whole next week, as he always does. Then he will return to normality, just like he always does after such accidents. He will be once again his cheery self.

He won't cry.

* * *

[1] Polish version of "Hail Mary".


	2. On Russian land

**On Russian land**

The blue plane with president's body landed at 3:04 pm. Closest family and co-workers was waiting on the airport. Feliks, who was there too, observed as flying machine reached the ground and its small doors finally opened. Soon the coffin from dark brown, almost red wood, covered with Polish flag, had been taken from the plane on the red carpet. Poland was surprised, because Russia went out from the same plane. When he saw Feliks (how he recognized him in crowd of the same black coats, Feliks didn't know), he quickly ran to him and with smile stood by Pole's side. Feliks' eyes widened, when he saw that Ivan was wearing his usual heavy coat, but on his right arm was black fillet.

"Like, what are you doing here?" Astonished Poland asked.

"I thought it would be nice to come." But then the smile on Russian's face changed into expression of concern. "How are you, Poland?"

Feliks moved his eyes from Ivan to president's coffin.

"I'm trying not to think about it too much. Still I'm really grateful for help with identification of rest of victims."

"You welcome, Poland."

Ivan looked at the same direction as his neighbor. Coffin had been opened. Meanwhile the national anthem had been played. Feliks was listening it with melancholy. Inside his chest was some emptiness, when he was observing the coffin with his president's body, but then he smiled ironically at sudden thought that passed his mind. And then he giggled, which made Ivan to look at him and rising an eyebrow.

"What are you laughing about?" Russia asked. Poland gazed at him, still smiling.

"Nothing. I've just remembered that he once flittered the national anthem. Instead singing: 'Z ziemi włoskiej do Polski…', he sang: 'Z ziemi włoskiej do Wolski…' That was so totally lame."

Ivan wanted to say something about disrespect towards Feliks' own leader, but he had been cut by priest, who started the mass. The celebration didn't took much time. The atmosphere was really depressing. It was cold, the blue sky was covered with clouds, people were wearing black clothes and crying… Feliks thought that he needed only rain to complete this view of sadness. But rain hadn't came. Sun was shining through the clouds, like it was normal April afternoon.

Soon the mass ended and it was time to individual prayers at president's body. The first persons, who came to the coffin, were president's twin brother and daughter. Jarosław Kaczyński kneeled at his brother's body. Poland didn't know what exactly his expression was, but he was feeling his pain alongside with pain of his president's daughter, Marta. They said their prayers. Then came turn of Sejm's marshal Bronisław Komorowski, Senate's marshal Bogdan Borusewicz, prime minister Tusk and other co-workers of deceased leader.

When last person said 'goodbye' to president Kaczyński, group of soldiers in tanned-green, formal uniforms took the coffin on their shoulders and started transporting it to caravan. The funeral march started to be played by military orchestra. Poland's eyes was observing the coffin carefully, on the other hand, his mind was occupied by memories of his president. Feliks tried not to think about him bad. He shoved away all "golden thoughts" and silly mistakes of his president, and focused on the way Lech Kaczyński was. As a person he wasn't that bad. Actually he was really warm and he really believed in what he was saying.

When last bucket of flowers had been put on the coffin and caravan's door was locked, car started to leaving the airport. Poland, on the other hand, turned to Russia and said:

"Let's, like, get out of here. I'm hungry."

Russia's eyebrows once again rose.

"What? You won't be accompanying your president to the President's Palace?"

Poland smiled.

"In some weird way I will. Like, lots of people are crowding in the streets on the way from airport to President's Palace. They want to bid Kaczyński farewell. Besides," He suddenly saddened. "I totally don't have strength to watch it 'till the very end."

"I see." Russia beamed lightly. "Well then, let's find some nice restaurant."

Feliks led his guest to the car and they quickly left the airport. During whole this ride, they both were silent. Ivan wasn't saying anything. He was just observing the view on the other side of window. There was only sound of moving car. They were driving about fifteen minutes, but they didn't found any opened restaurant, bar or even shop, so Feliks decided to take Ivan to his apartment. He still had some vodka in the bar and for sure there was some instant soup.

So they finally arrived. They walked upstairs, then Feliks drew out from his pocket the door key and opened his flat to guest. Poland removed his coat and wanted to take Russia's cover, but his guest refused politely. Then Ivan realized that Feliks was wearing black suit with navy blue tie.

Pole came to the window in living room and opened it a bit. He took the knob, rolled it up and pulled to himself, so the window was cracked opened only overhead. Then Poland's eyes moved to the view outside the window. Group of crows were walking on the grass and plucking it in search of something to eat. On the nearest tree appeared light green buds, telling everybody that spring was coming. Feliks observed it all with arms leaned on the glass, absentminded. It was so weird… So sad, but moving in the same way.

Ivan stood beside his host and looked at the same direction. He wanted to rest hand on Feliks' shoulder, but he stopped in the midway, when Pole suddenly spoke:

"Look at it, Ivan. When my people are in bereavement after national tragedy, flowers are blooming, birds are looking for food, grass is green, dogs are burking." He moved his arms from the window and turned to Russia. "The plane crash didn't stop spring to come."

"Is it wrong?" Russia asked.

"No." Poland smiled to him and looked again at the window. "It's fabulous. It means that life is, like, still happening."

Then he walked in to kitchen direction, he turned his face to Russia and asked, still smiling:

"Coffee?"

Ivan only nodded and fallowed his host. They both went to kitchen. Feliks turn on the electric pot and prepared two cups. Into first he tossed some coffee, to the other – instant chicken soup. When water was done, Poland poured it to the cups and mixed with spoon. Then he put them on the table, where Russia was sitting at. Feliks took a seat next to his guest. For a moment they were silently sipping liquids in their cups, until Ivan finally spoke.

"You know, red and white flowers went out in my house. My people feel sorry for your people. Before I decided to come here, I was going to watch Wajda's 'Katyń', but I felt that it would be nice to meet with you. Still," He rose his finger and smiled. "I asked Moscow to record it for me."

"Ivan," Poland started with serious expression. "like, why are you doing this all? Why are you helping me with gathering information about the crash, mourning with me and wanting to watch 'Katyń'? Why your prime minister was hugging mine?"

Russia smiled even wider and friendlier, but then he saddened.

"It was on Russian land." He said quietly, but perfectly hearable, and he looked down with shame.

Feliks couldn't believe his ears. Ivan Braginski – _Russia_ – was feeling _guilty_? After another moment of silence, Russian gazed at him once again.

"On Russian land, moreover – in Soviet airplane. And they were returning from celebration of anniversary of Katyń's massacre, done by mine soldiers. Since the crash, I was thinking about it all and I came to conclusion that every time, when you think 'Russia', always comes to your mind this whole pain, I caused to you. I wanted to reconcile with you even since September 1st, but now I want it more than ever…"

"Hold on a sec, dude." A bit confused Feliks cut him. "I, like, never said that this crash was your fault."

"But I still feel that it is, in some way, my responsibility. Maybe it all is just tragic coincidence, but when I've heard about what happened to you, I couldn't resist the impression that Russian land once again brought to you pain and tears." In this moment Russia took Poland's hand and looked into his eyes with most determinate and sincere gaze, Poland ever seen in him. "You must know one thing, Feliks, and I'm really honest right now. From the bottom of my heart I'm truly sorry for what happened in Katyń seventy years ago, and for what happened two days ago. Please, forgive me and if there is anything I can do for you, you can ask for it."

Feliks didn't respond. He just smiled brightly, then stood up from his seat and went to his living room. After two minutes he returned with bottle of vodka in one hand and two small glasses in the other. He put one glass before stunned Ivan, and one beside his own cup. Then he opened the bottle and poured some vodka to the glasses. Finally he took once gain his seat, rose his glass and said:

"Let's drink for Polish-Russian reconciliation then."

* * *

**Oh, Russia is so OOC...**

**But still I want Polish-Russian reconciliation and now it seems my wishes will come true, because Russians show us so much of solidarity.**

**Some review will be wonderful, guys.**


	3. The prayer at sunrise

**OK, guys, new chapter came! National bereavement in Poland will end this Sunday and the funeral of president's couple will be also in Sunday, so the hardest task is before me. For now something more spiritual that conteins some facts mentioned in _On the way to my Queen_, but you don't have to read this fic, because dear RedHatMeg explain everything to you.**

**And the title comes from song _Modlitwa o wschodzie słońca_, which also appears in the story. It's very nice song, try to find it on YouTube. The best performance is by Kaczmarski, Łapiński and Gintrowski, but Hababuk's also is nice.**

**The prayer at sunrise**

"No way! he won't be buried on Wawel!" Warsaw screamed.

"Yes, he will! He will lie in the same tomb as Piłsudski!" Cracow replied.

"No! The president have to be buried on Powązki! This decision of tomb on Wawel had been made in moment of grief and mourning!"

Poland, who was sitting in his kitchen and observing this argue second time in this Friday, face-palmed. Sometimes other cities or regions would come join the fight on Cracow's or Warsaw's side, but Poland found this argue pathetic and pointless. He had to do something.

"Warsaw, it's, like, settled! Dziwisz agreed on Wawel, so president will lie on Wawel!"

His capital city looked at him with disbelief.

"But, boss, is cemetery on Powązki worse, then Wawel? Lots of our most prominent people are buried there. Besides, Marta want his parents on Powązki."

"But Jarosław want his brother on Wawel." Cracow added.

"Guys, stop it!" Poland exclaimed, more to Warsaw than Cracow. "Argues won't change anything! It's too late! The funeral will be in this Sunday."

"President Kaczyński was from my place, damn it!" Warsaw screamed, then he pointed at Cracow and said: "He refused to take your honorable citizenship and now he's going to be buried in Cracow? Over mine dead body!"

Feliks sighed. There was no point to him in be here, so he moved to the living room, where Gdańsk was reading newspaper. When she heard Poland's footsteps, she looked at him with smile and left the paper on the table. Then she looked around, like she was checking, if there wasn't any spies or unwanted witnesses, and finally she spoke with sparking eyes:

"You know, boss, I've heard," She moved closer, Feliks, on the other hand, leaned upon her to hear her better. "I've heard that the flag and funeral wreaths on the plane wasn't destroyed by fire at all."

Poland rose his eyebrows, but it seemed that Gdańsk was serious. She only smiled wider and continued.

"Yeah, they weren't even dirtied. I don't know about you, but I think that Mother Mary protected the flag and wreaths."

Feliks didn't say anything. He just sank into his own thoughts for a moment. He could agree with Gdańsk (after all Mother Mary was his Queen[1] since 17th century), but in this case he treated this information as some gossip. Maybe it was true, maybe not. Poland sat on the couch and looked down. After few seconds he leaned comfortably his back on the backrest, then he rose his head and started to stare at ceiling. Finally on his face appeared the expression of determination and Feliks rapidly stood up.

"Sorry, I have to leave for awhile."

"Where?" A bit surprised Gdańsk asked, when Poland wore his boots. Warsaw and Cracow stopped their argue and looked in to the hallway on their country.

"To church." He replied, taking his coat on back.

Without any more needless talk he left his house. Directing to the nearest church, where he came and observed praying people in day of this memorable crash, he only hoped that now it will be open and that there will be no people. He had to do something really personal and he didn't want any witnesses of it. Both his hopes were granted. The house of God was standing open, but it was empty, except of priests, whose just moved to sacristy to do some duties there.

Feliks slowly and a bit hesitantly came inside. He made sign of cross and unhurriedly moved forward, glaring at the statue of crucified Jesus that was hang on the wall in front of him. Poland's steps on the stoned floor were echoed through the big, empty church, when nation was approaching the statue. His hands were resting on his chest, while his eyes didn't move from face of tired and miserable Christ; his mind was occupied by many thoughts that was making him confused.

He stopped in front of altar and then his rolled slowly from the cross to the picture of Mother Mary that was placed on the right wall beside altar. And suddenly he decided to first meet with Her. For a moment he was observing in silence Her sad and beautiful face, full of worry. He knew that face very well. He had seen it many times in his long life. It was the face of his Mother, his Patroness, his Queen. He and his people were turning to Her with their sorrows and pain, putting their hopes in woman, who gave birth of the world's Savoir.

"My dear Queen, who had many times helped me survive horrible things. I know I'm not the most humble nation in the world. I know that I've done many mistakes, which broke your heart. I also know that, in spite of this, You keep helping me with everything. I came here, because I still can't understand, why that kind of tragedy happened to me." He passed and looked at the picture more intensifying. Then he rolled his gaze on the floor and spoke once again: "I was thinking about it a lot. About this ironic twist of coincidence that this plane crashed almost on the Katyń. About the consequences of it to me and to the world. And about the victims." He looked again at Mary and added with more quiet and sad voice: "But, my dear Queen, I still don't understand it. I don't know, why God put it upon me. And that's why… that's why I came here. Please, give me the answer or ask for it Your Merciful Son."

The only reply he received was silence, but Poland wasn't expecting that Mother Mary on painting will speak to him. No, he rather was thinking that God send him some illumination. Still nothing like this happened. Feliks moved his eyes from his Queen to the cross.

"God, please, let me understand why You took them away from me. Was it because of Russia's denial of Katyń's massacre? You wanted to open his eyes and You thought that only that kind of tragedy will change him? Or maybe You wanted to open eyes of Polish people on the patriotism of Lech Kaczyński? Or maybe Your intentions were completely different. Maybe You wanted to punish him for his pride?"

Poland paused and rolled his eyes on the floor. Then he chuckled ironically and with bitter smile observed the ground.

"Or maybe, in the end, I _am_ the Christ of Europe[2]." Then he saddened. "And I have to suffer for whole continent's sins. Should I feel honored? After all, You afflict those, who are loved by You. I understand this, but what was Your plan? I can't see, what exactly You wanted to accomplish by this tragedy."

Poland fell on his knees. Still there was no illuminations, no signs, no response. Only dead silence, he was receiving many times. His eyes moved from the floor to the cross. What else he could say? He was scared about future. He was scared about how this accident affect on his people. He was scared of increase of their acrimony. He was scared of politicians, who will use this tragedy to turn public opinion against their opponents. He was afraid that his people will be divided. He was scared of sudden eruption of hate.

After few minutes of silence, Feliks bowed his spine humbly, leaned his hands on the floor and started to sing:

_Każdy Twój wyrok przyjmę twardy… _[I, will take every tough sentence of Yours…]

He rose his head to see the cross again, when he sang next line:

_Przed mocą Twoją się ukorzę._ [I will humble against Your power.]

_Ale chroń mnie Panie od pogardy, _[But protect me against contempt,]

_Od nienawiści strzeż mnie Boże._ [Guard me against hate, God.]

His quiet and broken voice was echoing around church's walls, making the words of song more humble, yet also very powerful.

_Wszak Tyś jest niezmierzone dobro,_ [Because You're immeasurable good,]

_Którego nie wyrażą słowa._ [Which can't be expressed by words.]

_Więc mnie od nienawiści obroń _[So defand me from hate]

_I od pogardy mnie zachowaj._ [And keep me from contempt.]

There was only Poland and God. And when Feliks was looking into Jesus' dull eyes, there was some remarkable attention in them. The Almighty and Merciful God seemed to listen carefully every word of nation's humble prayer, whispered softly in empty church.

_Co postanowisz, niech się ziści._ [What You decide, let it be granted.]

_Niechaj się wola Twoja stanie,_ [Let Your will happen.]

_Ale zbaw mnie od nienawiści, _[But save me from hate.]

_Ocal mnie od pogardy, Panie._ [Rescue me from contempt, Lord.]

Feliks' fist clenched. He really was meaning all the things, he was singing. Now he was repeating last verse like mantra.

_Co postanowisz, niech się ziści._ [What You decide, let it be granted.]

He already took this pain and he will take everything, which will come with it.

_Niechaj się wola Twoja stanie,_ [Let Your will happen.]

But he was asking God for this one thing. For his people and for himself.

_Ale zbaw mnie od nienawiści,_ [But save me from hate.]

From the hate and everything, it brings to those, who let it overcome them.

_Ocal mnie od pogardy, Panie._ [Rescue me from contempt, Lord.]

Finally, when Poland decided, it was enough, he ended his song. He made the sign of cross and stood up from his knees. He wasn't moving his gaze from Jesus in front of him. Feliks felt a lot better, although he still didn't know what was God's purpose.

"Don't worry, Lord. I'm not mad at You, because You didn't respond my questions. I've realized long time ago that yelling at You about Your silence is pointless. Maybe I'm not ready for the answer, yet. Maybe soon I will understand it all, just like the other things that happened to me. And then my people will understand too. Goodbye, Great Lord."

He made once again the sign of cross, smiled to Jesus and to his Queen, and then started to leave. Someday, it all will be clear to him. Meanwhile he had to take care of funeral. He still hadn't decided what to wear on ceremony.

* * *

[1] During Polish-Swedish Wars Polish-Lithuasnian Commonwealth had been dedicated to Mother Mary, who had been coronated as Queen of Poland. So in my fics, Feliks is refering to her as his Queen.

[2] It's Messianism - a notion popular during 19th century, when Poland was partitoned. It was founded by Towiański, who claimed that he had vision - God said that Poland is a chosen nation, which have to suffer under three occupants for Europe's salvation.


	4. Loving memory

**So it is. The last chapter. Hope you will forgive me my bad translation of Bible's and speeches' fragments.**

**_I want to dedicate this chapter to my University's president, father Ryszard Rumianek, who was on the plane. Today is his funeral, so let it be my tribute to him._**

**Loving memory**

Poland was sitting in St. Mary's Basilica and waiting for the beginning of funeral mass. There was a lot of people, even if few delegations had cancelled their contribution in ceremony due to emission of ashes from volcano in Iceland. Feliks was nervous, because it was almost time to start the mass and his right place, reserved for Ivan Braginski, still remained empty, just like place where president Medvedev should sit. Poland still remembered Russia's promises that he will be for sure in Cracow to take part in funeral. Rolling his eyes on beautiful, gothic church, Poland had doubts, if Russia and his president will show themselves.

Feliks sighed with irritation and looked at rest of his guests – nations that came with their bosses and delegates. Toris, who was sitting next to him, rested hand on his friend's shoulder. Lithuania and others smiled to Poland softly.

"Don't worry. Everything will go smoothly."

"Ivan had to be here long time ago." Poland sighed even deeper.

"Brother will come. He promised." Belarus said.

Poland wanted to say something, but one of Polish delegates stood at the altar and started to officially greet guests. Feliks and other nations immediately went silent and turned their gaze at altar. And when the delegate was thanking Eduard's boss for coming, Medvedev discretely went in to the church, found his place and took it. Poland smiled with relief and his smile got wider, when Russia approached him quickly and took his seat beside host.

"Finally, Ivan." Feliks said.

"I and my boss were pretty determinate to come. There were some problems, but now we're both fine."

Official greetings ended. Pole came back to his seat, while in whole Basilica could be heard music from organs. But soon it silenced. The delegate said in Polish that the liturgy of holy mass begins; that funeral procession is coming in to the church and that mass will be led by cardinal Stanisław Dziwisz, the Cracow metropolitan.

The trumpet started to play a tune that would be heard, when king or someone equally important arrives. Soon group of bishops in violet chasubles and few minor priests in white clothes came through the main gate and slowly, but gracefully marched through the thin hallway to the altar. Three priests in white were walking before bishops; the one, who was in the middle, was holding wooden cross.

All people in the church stood up, while the Mozart's _Requiem_ had been played by orchestra and sang by choir. The procession was still walking to the altar. On the other hand Poland bowed his head and started to listen the sounds of melancholic, monumental and beautiful music. It helped him to imagine this moment, when plane was flaming. It was like a scene from the war movie – the view of burning plane and classic music. But it remained only for a few seconds. After that Poland's nostrils felt the smell of incense, which was used by Dziwisz himself.

The music silenced and the mass began. The guests took their places, when they've been asked to sit down. Dziwisz put glasses on his nose and, holding in hands his speech, spoke to people gathered in church.

"After tragedy that took place under the sky of Smolensk eight days ago, we farewell with reverence the president of Polish Republic, professor Lech Kaczyński and his wife Maria. They, going to – how it turned out – the last journey, wanted to salute the tribute to murdered countrymen on Russian land from seventy years. Cherishing this dream, they've paid the highest prize. The whole delegation had shared their fate…"

Poland for a moment, wasn't listening what Dziwisz was saying. Feliks rolled his gaze on people in the church. Everybody, except priests, were wearing black clothes. Ukraine also had black scarf on her head, just like Julia Tymoszenko. Black – the color of death, darkness and sorrow. This color was part of Poland's reality during those eight days. Every time when he was passing by someone in black, he wondered, if that person was wearing it always or was it because of mourning.

"Yesterday in Warsaw, we were reading their names and looking at their faces. We were reminding their achievements, recognizing their hopes that was ended by unexpected and premature death." Dziwisz paused, but after short moment he continued: "Since week, from Poland's land, the voice is calling to the sky…"

"_I'm calling to You from depths, Lord._" Feliks whispered along with Dziwisz, his eyes turned on the altar.

"But we're also repeating after psalmist: _God is my shepherd…_"

"_…He's leading me through right tracks._" Feliks was still whispering, not even realizing that he was observed by other nations. "_Evan if I would walk through the dark valley, I won't be afraid of evilness, because You're with me…_"

He remembered when he was standing in front of cross and asking God and his Queen about the sense of this crash. Now Feliks – although he still didn't know why it happened to him – felt strange calmness and peace of mind. After all he only had to trust Christ, as he always was doing.

"Today, we're not asking question: 'Why?' Today we only want to read the sense of what happened, so the mourned death of our brothers and sisters bring blessed fruits."

He couldn't fall into despair. He had to move on and take conclusions out from what happened. If he won't move on, then the deaths of all those people – his people – will be wasted.

"Today, in St. Mary's Basilica, in the heart of metropolitan and royal city Cracow, we're greeting and in the same time farewell the president and faithful companion of his life. We're moved by grief, which Poland and Warsaw and Cracow and whole world recalls them with. A depth of Smolensk's tragedy and connected with it experience of nation are demanding from us a deep symbol and special memory. Two coffins will be buried on Wawel, but the fate of all others comrades of cloud-capped journey is written on them…"

Feliks never forgot that not only his president died in this crash. Even if media were talking mostly about Kaczyński, he was thinking about others. About his generals, Anna Walentynowicz, who started Solidarity, Ryszard Rumianek, members of Katyń's Families Organization… He was praying for them, he was sorry for them, even if he didn't shad even one tear after them.

"Seventy years ago Katyń had bore off two nations and covering the truth about shed of innocent blood didn't let heal a painful wound. The tragedy from eight days released a lot of seam of good in persons and nations. Compassion and help, which we experienced from brothers Russians, revives hopes for rapprochement and reconciliation of our two Soviet nations. I'm directing those words to mister president of Russia."

Feliks looked once again on Ivan, who also turned at him and smiled. It was a smile of sympathy, not insanity or sadism. Poland's hand moved to Russia's and held it.

"That's the task to our generation. Let's take it nobly. Deceased president asked for the same in his speech, which he hadn't delivered. He said in this speech: _We should go the path, which connects our nations, not stopping on it and not turning back_."

This one thing he will do for sure. Wanted for so long reconciliation will finally be done. There is always good from bad. And this time the good thing is that Ivan was never so close to him. Feliks felt – in spite of the situation of funeral – really optimistic.

Dziwisz was talking at least five minutes. Then he announced the beginning of mass and the people in church stood up. After introduction's prayers, readings of Apostle's History, psalms, Letter to Romans and Gospel of St. Lukas, there was a long moment of silence and then the Sodano's homily had been read by one of bishops, since Angelo Sodano – the delegate of pope – couldn't come to Poland because of Iceland's volcano.

"Dear leaders of states and governments, dear authorities of Polish Republic, venerable brothers, bishops and priests of Church in Poland, dear friends. You've came numerous from various sides of world and various corners of Poland to this historical Marian Basilica to salute tribute to president Lech Aleksander Kaczyński, who in tragic and heartbreaking way left in bereavement this noble nation; and also his respected wife Maria and other, more than ninety victims of plane catastrophe in Smolensk. I also wanted to come from Vatican, the heart of Catholic World, to bring to authorities and nation of Polish Republic assurance about closeness and solidarity of pope Benedict Sixteenth. From centuries this dear Polish community was deeply united with Church in Rome. The exact bonds of church's communion had been tighten by contribution that Church in Cracow gave to whole Christian community in gift of wonderful pope, who was John Paul Second…"

Poland's cheeks started to blush. "Noble nation", "dear Polish community", wonderful pope John Paul Second"… All those nice words were mortifying him. It also made him proud to know that good, old Vatican was appreciating him.

"Our meeting is happening in sad moment of Polish nation's history. In one of many tragic hours of its acts. However this history is saying to us that this magnanimous people could always react right for the time of trial and find the way to better social coexistence and to great, national unity…"

Maybe not always. Feliks could count all the moments, when his people weren't united at all.

Sodano was also talking about hope of Europe's unity with respect of national identity and then he said:

"_Nations aren't dying_ – Another popes was repeating in various occasions. Great son of this Polish land, pope John Paul Second, during visit in UN was talking about the rights of person, but also about the rights of nations. Also the late-lamented pope John Paul Second, just like pope Benedict Sixteenth now, didn't stop to remind us about duty of solidarity between nations in perspective of great, overriding rule of human kind's unity…"

Could it be that his pain will unite whole world? No, Feliks wasn't that naïve to believe that one event will unite aggravated from centuries countries. At least not for long. He also wasn't that naïve to think that his own people will be united for long. But for sure, this one tragedy will change something. He had to believe in it, because if he won't, he may stay in the same place and won't move along.

"Dear friends, for Christians all over the world the time of Ester is time of hope. The resurrection of Christ is a guarantee of victory also for people nowadays. The light of Christ, also today, enlighten the pain of persons and nations. In light of Christ's Gospel also today we can hope for serene and full of peace future. Dear Polish friends, remember that words of psalm 144 are always actual and they sounds like this: _Happy people, whose god is Lord._ Amen."

Once again there was a long moment of silence. During this silence Poland's mind passed thought that someday all his people will be resurrected. They will win upon death and live together in better, light place. When world will end and Satan will be defeated once for all…

The mass was going on. People in and outside of church stood up and soon all Poles started the Confess of Faith. Their voices were echoing in the basilica with great power. Never in his whole life, Poland felt that those words were so strong and so touching. Never in his whole life, Poland felt so great and so moved.

Mass took few more minutes. When Orthodox priest said the prayer in his ordinance, Poland looked at Russia. And something inside his body warmed him up, when he saw Ivan murmuring the words of plea and making the sign of cross in Orthodox Christian way.

Komorowski and the president of Solidarity had delivered the speeches. Then few soldiers in formal uniforms took the coffins on their shoulders and came outside. The procession of priests, delegates and personifications of nations went after them. Outside the basilica was gathered people with Polish flags. When the coffins had been taken on the special car that supposed to get them to Wawel, all those people started to scream rhythmically:

_"Lech Kaczyński! Dziękujemy! Lech Kaczyński! Dziękujemy!"_

Poland was standing and observing it with mixed feelings. Lech Kaczyński was man full of weaknesses, sometimes funny, sometimes shameful. Still there was something in those cheering crowd that was making Feliks feel optimistic; something that was making his heart grow. He was happy to see it.

"They are great." Ukraine commented with smile, resting her hand on Poland's shoulder.

"Yes, they are." He replied, also smiling.

_"Lech Kaczyński! Dziękujemy! Lech Kaczyński! Dziękujemy!"_

"What they are saying?" Germany asked.

"They're saying: 'Lech Kaczyński, thank you.'"

The funeral conduct started its journey to the hill of Wawel. The crowd started to sing the refrain of Polish national anthem.

_Marsz, marsz Dąbrowski,_

_Z ziemi włoskiej do Polski._

_Za twoim przewodem_

_Złączym się z narodem._

Because Feliks decided that he and other nations won't be going to Wawel, so he led them to restaurant, where funeral party was taking place. Few of his guests were surprised that he won't be accompanying his leader to the tomb, but he responded that way to Wawel will take too much time and will be too exhausting (it was on the hill after all). So they left the Cracow square. And when they were leaving, they still could hear people saying: "Lech Kaczyński! Dziękujemy!" or singing national anthem.

Soon they've also heard the sound of Zygmunt's Bell. Feliks suddenly stopped and looked back to the Wawel. The castle on the hill was growing upon rest of Cracow and the conduct of black clothed silhouettes were approaching it. The ringing of bell mixed with singing birds, which made really weird effect.

The restaurant, where Poland organized the funeral party, was really elegant in old fashion. Tables were already prepared and they all had black cloths and buckets of fake, white flowers. Nations took off their coats and moved to their seats. Poland wasn't wearing anything special – just black jeans, white shirt and gray sweater. The clothes similar to those he always wear on World Meetings, but it looked like they were washed out from their bright colors. That thing didn't get away from other nations' attention. It was like Poland himself was washed out from his usual cheerfulness.

Before Feliks sat on his place, he cleared his throat, rolled eyes on his guests, who were observing him with curiosity. The whole room was silent, while all of gazes were focused on him. Poland smiled, but his eyes were filled with sadness.

"Many things had been said during those eight days." He finally spoke. His voice was calm. "Many speeches had been delivered, by mine and not mine people. Words of comfort, solidarity, help, grief, sadness. I really don't know, what else I can say to you, my dear friends. But I still want to say something. I hope you will, like, forgive me that you have to hear another totally boring speech."

Nations giggled, when they heard his usual valley accent after such serious talk. He adjusted his composure and took deep breath. They all were waiting in silence, with smiled faces.

"The national mourning in my place will end in midnight. I and my people will return to my normal life. The other victims of plane crash will be identified and buried in ground to rest in peace. I will be missing many of them. Maybe my life will be normal, but not quite the same as before. New people will take their offices and do their work. People with sometimes different points of view on important cases, different policies and different goals. I only hope that they will be motivated by their state's good.

As a nations, we know this feeling, when our citizens, who were known by us from their birth, are dying. And we know, what feel people that met them and befriended with them; or those, who met them only once or from time to time. We know this weird thought, when we're finding out that someone, who was alive, who was talking to us, who used to live in our flat, suddenly disappear from world of living. In one moment person is in our lives, in another – is lost in darkness, leaving on earth people, he or she knew and marked with memories of all those times spent together. Those people are crying for that person or think about her, sinking in reflection upon life and death, about passing time and humans, who are 'the thinking reed', as said Pascal, or 'the being, walking towards death', as said Heidegger.

In some twisted way those, who once died, are immortal. Immortal by memory of people that met them and by things, they've done. Oh, how banal truth is that! It's one of the few things always repeated during those kind of situations. But what else I can say? What else would suit to moment like this?

There was on this plane one really special person. His name was Ryszard Rumianek and he was the catholic priest, doctor of biblical sciences and the president of University of Cardinal Stefan Wyszyński. He knew father Jerzy Popiełuszko, they were in the same seminary and later – in the same military section. Thanks to gesture of kindness, they've softened the heart of their sadistic commander. They posted him Christmas wishes, which moved him so deeply that he changed his attitude toward them. Father Rumianek was also in Jerusalem, where he and one of his friends had lost in the desert. After few hours they had been found by Israeli police, who gave them coke and then, when they were still thirsty – two bottles of water. Stories like that father Rumianek told the students of his university during Easter teachings.

His life was full of sad, touching, happy and ordinary events, just as the lives of others, who were on this plane. Every person had its own story that is a part of my history as well. Humans are born, live their lives, suffer, struggle with some difficulties, meet other humans, grow older and older and finally – in one way or another – die. It is really hard for them to not leave even tiny mark of their existence to other humans…"

Feliks suddenly cut and took another deep breath. The nations that were sitting really close to him, could see something shining in his eyes. It were tears that were waiting in corners of his eyes to be shed. But Poland didn't want to cry.

"The sun is shining on the blue, April sky, birds are chirping happily, flowers are blooming. Spring came to me, just like it came to you. I only hope that place, where all victims of plane crash are now, is equally beautiful like our lands in this time of the year." His vision became more blurry, but he didn't stop. "One day they all will be revived in place, where there will be no wars, hunger, hate and pain." His voice started to brake. Holding the tears was more and more difficult. "And they won't be 'thinking reed' or 'being walking towards death', anymore. They… will be…"

With all the might of his willpower he tried to prevent himself from crying, but tears had been spilt, anyway, and two warm streams ran down his cheeks. He quickly wiped it with one hand. Right after he had done it, he looked at other nations and grinned.

"However, I'm also optimistic about this world. Today, like in any other time in last few years, I have a hope. Hope for future that will come soon. Maybe day after this today, maybe after week or maybe in next month, but soon. It aren't some great hopes about eternal world peace, but little hopes about small steps that could get us near this ideal and heal our relations. Time will show, if they will be granted. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen."

He bowed lightly his head. The nations started to applauding him. Poland's smile grew wider. He sat on his place and the funeral party started. There was lots of good food, cheerful conversations and after few hours, Poland, Latvia, Prussia and Russia started to sing "Kalinka". Other nations soon joined to them.

Feliks knew, he will remember this day forever. The day that should be sad, but in some twisted way was making him hopeful.


End file.
